Page:Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.djvu/169

 And the lorn Mother speechless stood,

Pale at the fury of her brood.

Yet later, and the silk did wind

Her fair cold form;

Little availed the shining shroud,

Though ruddy in hue, to cheer or warm.

A watcher looked upon her low, and said—

She sleeps, but sleeps, she is not dead.

But in that sleep contortion showed

The terror of the vision there—

A silent vision unavowed,

Revealing earth's foundation bare,

And Gorgon in her hidden place.

It was a thing of fear to see

So foul a dream upon so fair a face,

And the dreamer lying in that starry shroud.

But from the trance she sudden broke—

The trance, or death into promoted life;

At her feet a shivered yoke,

And in her aspect turned to heaven

No trace of passion or of strife—